I don’t like your name.
I never have.
But your name was carried
by someone I always loved.
I heard his name
every morning,
accompanied by his voice
and his presence.
At his wake, I heard it
for the last time.
Then I met you and heard it again,
with excitement.
His name, your name.
With love, all the way to heaven.
Photography by Camilla Morachis Beltrán
